


Fluffy Chiffon Cake

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 05:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: A birthday had never been missed while Ignis served the crown, so he was more than a little bemused when he found himself banished for the day from the apartment.





	Fluffy Chiffon Cake

**Author's Note:**

> A quick birthday drabble to clear some cobwebs

The first birthday Ignis had celebrated in the Citadel had not really been celebrated at all. There was the meal with his uncle, of course. And small gifts exchanged as normal. There had even been a card signed by His Majesty that Ignis had kept with his personal achievements and trophies as he grew up. But it had been a quiet affair— muted in the aftermath of the loss of his parents, spent worrying over the depths of the palace he was now being fitted into, formed to. The imposition of the grand, dark towers of the Citadel had cast their shadow in his mind even then, the bright reminders of childhood consumed by the dark stones and empty halls. 

Not that he had thought that way when he was young. At the time, he had been too enamoured with the grand windows and dizzying views of the sprawling city below. He was too easily lost in the luxury and lushness of the lifestyle he was being invited into; in the King’s comforting confidence and kindness, and the Prince’s shy smiles and eager pleas to play. 

At the time of his sixth birthday, Ignis had been too busy to really notice that it had arrived. 

“When’s your birthday?” Noctis asked sometime in late July of the same year, as the plans were already underway for the celebrations of a royal birthday. “Is it soon too?”

Noctis had taken to following him around, rather than the way it was supposed to go. The Prince trailed after him everywhere he went within the cavernous halls, small steps echoing as he struggled to keep up. Ignis would rarely have the heart to leave the Prince to their governess while he sought out the treats that were being asked for, or the toys left scattered through the royal apartments. And so, Ignis gripped Noctis’ hand tight as he led the other boy through the halls, to peek in on ballrooms and conference rooms, trying to spy the first hints of celebrations that would mark the royal birthday at the end of August. 

“In the spring, highness.” He answered then, remembering the look of confusion, then worry, then fear that had cross his new friend’s face in a short span. 

“We missed it?”

Ignis had thought he would be in trouble for upsetting Noctis at the time. As the little Prince was scooped up by a fussing caretaker and taken away for the rest of the afternoon, still crying over the tragedy of a missed birthday. 

There had been a piece of cake for him at lunch the next day, and a drawing of a chocobo (or so Noctis said at the time) with it. The drawing was still tucked safely away, Ignis knew, in the cards collected over years of his service to the Crown.

No birthday had been missed since.

Though Ignis was now suspicious as Noctis banished him from the apartment for the day. As he feigned aloof disinterest at any plans for the day and reminders of reports or duties still left unfulfilled. As Gladio admitted to running late, reassuring through texts that he would miss Ignis by only a few minutes. As Prompto pestered him with questions and favours and last minute help for his Crownsguard tests. The constant needling and whining far too intrusive to just dismiss. Ignis could never think to call himself a marksman in the same calibre as Prompto, but he had been distracted enough by their shared training to forget that Noctis was planning something. At least for a few hours. 

And when Noctis planned something, chaos tended to follow.

“I trust I’m allowed in?”

“What?” Prompto grinned as he dragged them both across the lobby of Noctis’ building; “I thought you practically lived with Noct now.”

The banishment was lifted, it seemed, as Ignis toed his shoes off in the darkened hallway. He saw the streamers first— the banners and colours pinned across the room like a web. A veritable feast laid out along the dining table, takeaway boxes and containers already tucked somewhere out of sight, though Ignis could identify more than a few of his favourites in the mix of plates and bowls. He smiled at the centrepiece; a delicate chiffon cake, candied slices of oranges gathered across the top of it, set into the sweet drizzle that seemed too perfect to be real. The golden tint to it a shining beacon despite the other delicacies set out for him. 

Some was already served, bowls ready for the creamy risotto Ignis knew for a fact was not something just anyone could request for take-out from his favourite restaurants. Wine and beer set out with glasses, cutlery standing ready in a mug. And Ignis’ eye was still drawn to that cake despite all the other tantalising offerings. 

Noctis was in his arms before he was more than a foot away from his discarded shoes. “Happy birthday, Specs.”

“Thank you, Noctis.” He was gathered, unceremoniously, Prince and all, into a bear hug from Gladio, while Prompto snapped his photos and dashed for the food. 

Ignis let himself indulge in the sweetness of the candied oranges only when a real meal was finished— with far too many leftovers than they were prepared for. Even as he made the first cut into the crisp appearance of the delicate cake, the cream of the drizzled icing barely folding beneath his blade. “I almost hate to ruin it.”

“Less lamenting,” Noctis said from his side, reaching out to steal the first bite of a candied citrus, ruining the perfect image for Ignis’ resolve. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”


End file.
